


Fears

by apostapals (apostapal)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Gender-Neutral Hawke, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapals
Summary: Prompt fill. Hawke isn't afraid of much but they are unsure of a lot.





	

Varric is afraid of becoming his parents. That mired old life they left behind and refusing to look ahead or even directly in front of them. He lives every day trying his best to avoid it.

He doesn’t know what Hawke is afraid of. Spiders, yeah. And maybe really angry bears. But they never talk about their bigger fears. Because so many of them–losing their family, their friends–have already happened to them. Hawke keeps going, facing loss after loss, and never seems to falter.

So it strikes him as odd, in the Fade again after years of (thankfully) avoiding it, that the Nightmare has enough to give them pause.

“Do you really think you mattered, Hawke?”

They stare up into the shifting green above them, unable to look at the voice directly, and frown. It’s an expression Varric isn’t sure he’s ever seen them make. Distress? Or anger? Maybe both.

“Of course I did.” they say sharply, gripping their staff a little tighter. “What stupid questions this thing asks.”

Later, Varric realizes this expression is uncertainty.

Stroud stays in the Fade, apparently to Hawke’s protest, and when the Inquisitor and Hawke limp out of the veil tear, Varric is still unsure _why_ –why would _Hawke_ have any reason to fear they didn’t matter? After all that happened in Kirkwall, and everything their Tale brought after, it seems like a senseless fear.

Not like Varric, still hung up on Kirkwall and wanting to go back to _the way things were_. Still missing those quiet nights in the Hanged Man.

Hawke sits with him a while before they leave for Weisshaupt, in silence for a time, but eventually he manages to break into the subject.

“So, Champ, something been bothering you?”

Hawke shrugs, stretches a little, and reaches across the table–hand open. Varric obliges and takes it in his own hands, running his thumb over their knuckles. They sigh and gather themselves, Varric waits patiently the whole time.

“ _Did_ anything I did matter? I mean, in the grand scheme of things?” they ask, that expression returning. Uncertainly.

Varric looks at them a long moment then just sighs.

“That depends.” he says, “Who do you want it to matter to?”

Hawke shrugs.

“Because it mattered to everyone back in Kirkwall. And it mattered to the Circles that you supported Blondie.” Varric explains, slotting his fingers between theirs, “And _everything_ you do matters to _me_.”

Hawke looks at him and the uncertainty is gone, replaced with a winning smile, and says, “Then I guess I mattered quite a bit, huh?”

Varric just laughs. “Yeah, you should know better to listen to demons–after all we’ve been through.”

“Hey,” Hawke nudges at Varric with their other hand. “I’m the only one of us who _didn’t_ turn on someone in the Fade, remember? Well, me and Justice.”

“At least I learned from it.” Varric quips, “Worth something, right?”

“It is to me.” Hawke replies, grinning widely at him.

The dwarf just chuckles. “Then see? It counts a lot when my favorite person acknowledges it.”

Hawke couldn’t argue with that.


End file.
